Today was not a good day for Youngest Son. Today was not a good day for his mother, either. It consisted of dealing with an unhappy child and cleaning up vomit in the library, amongst other messes.
So, here is the problem. Youngest Son is tired. He’s over-worked. He’s hungry. We ask too much of him. His siblings are mean. His mother didn’t have a twin son to keep him company. Most important of all HE. HATES. HIS. LIFE. At least, that’s what he told me this afternoon when I picked him up from school. The morning was no picnic either, lemme tell ya.
This is where many parents might freak out. They might consider counseling to get to the bottom of his discontent. Questions such as, “Were we good enough parents when he was an infant?”, “Is this separation anxiety?”, “Should I have read more parenting books?” might arise. I know that if Eldest Son or Teenage Daughter were as dramatic as him, I would have just felt awful.
However, this is the joy of having a third child. I now can say that he deserves an academy award and not blame myself.
All kidding aside, I did try to be nice to poor Youngest Son and I attempted to cheer him up. I told him that everyone has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day once in a while but throwing temper tantrums doesn’t help (it is tempting though, isn’t it?).
I also didn’t tell him how much it can suck to be an adult sometimes and he should enjoy childhood – he wouldn’t have understood and I didn’t want to scare him.